


A Poor Man’s Emma

by jungle_ride



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Past Baelfire | Neal Cassidy/Emma Swan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:55:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24270070
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jungle_ride/pseuds/jungle_ride
Summary: Ever since she’d come into the bar Neal hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off her. Her blonde hair, pulled back into a loose pony-tail, and black glasses had made sure of that. The illusion is already fading now though, her Emma mask cracking and falling away as she smiles with lips too red.Set sometime shortly after Neal leaves Emma in 2.06.
Relationships: Baelfire | Neal Cassidy/Emma Swan
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	A Poor Man’s Emma

_“Tell me a secret.” She whispers, her naked body curved into his.  
  
“I was made for you.” He replies, tracing patterns into the small of her back.  
  
“Only me?”_  
  
\--  
  
He’s drunk. _Again._ It's a regular occurrence these days and really who cares? The masochist answers “Emma”, the sadist taunts “not anymore.” His stomach tightens, he’s not drunk enough.  
  
“Another.” Neal half slurs, gesturing at his empty glass.  
  
“Neal, maybe...” John begins and there’s concern there. Neal doesn’t want concern, doesn’t deserve it.  
  
“Another.” He demands, voice rough.  
  
John hesitates another second before refilling the glass with a pitying sigh. Neal prickles at the sound and gulps down the golden liquid. It burns on the way down but does nothing to fill the hollow aching space in his chest.  
  
“Another?” a female voice asks, as she slides into the seat next to him. Tilting his head Neal glances out of the corner of his eye and _fuck!_  
  
The woman has an empty martini glass in one hand, her third of the night; he’s been keeping count. Ever since she’d come into the bar Neal hasn’t been able to keep his eyes off her. Her blonde hair, pulled back into a loose pony-tail, and black glasses had made sure of that. The illusion is already fading now though, her Emma mask cracking and falling away as she smiles with lips too red.  
  
“Yeah.” He answers quickly, adverting his gaze.  
  
“John, another dirty martini for me and one more of whatever my new friend here is having.” Her voice is too sharp and overly primed. It cuts at his ears.  
  
“Neal, I think you might have had enough.” John again tires helplessly.  
  
Neal laughs bitterly, because yeah he _has_ had enough. Had a lifetime of enough, enough, _enough!_ However, it seems God, Karma or _whatever_ hasn’t gotten the memo though; judging by the woman sat next to him. I mean she’s wearing a black and white stripped top for fucks sake!  
  
“Oh John come one, what’s one more in the grand scheme of things?” Maya winks at Neal playfully, it turns his stomach. John rolls his eyes at the both of them but takes the money from her hand and pours the drinks.   
  
“I’m Maya, pronounced My-a.” she says, angling her body towards him on the stool.   
  
“Neal, pronounced Neal.” he deadpans staring intently at the wooden grain of the bar. Maya giggles, loud and brash and it’s nothing like _hers_. His fists clench automatically.  
  
“So, Neal,” Maya continues, oblivious to his discomfort. “What ails you? Money troubles? A broken heart?”  
  
Neal doesn’t reply, but his face must give it away, because Maya makes a knowing noise in the back of her throat and pats him gently on the shoulder.  
  
“Yeah, me too. I’ve just left my fiancée.” She clarifies, as if Neal has any interest in her personal heartbreak. Her hand is still on his shoulder and Neal has to fight back the urge to shrug it off.  
  
“He was sleeping with my best friend, I found them in bed together; apparently it's been going on for months. The bitch was my maid of honor, _can you believe that?_ ”  
  
Actually yes he can because the universe is dick, and everyone in it is just waiting to get fucked. Neal doesn’t realize he’s said all of that out loud until Maya’s laughing and raising her glass.  
  
“I’ll drink to that.” She says still laughing, though the sound is full of bitterness. Neal watches the line of her throat as she swallows. It’s a harsh movement, a quick bob up and down, nothing like the graceful movement Emma’s made.  
  
“So what did your bitch of a girl do? Fuck your brother.” She lets out a dry laugh void of all humor. Anger rises in the pit of Neal's stomach at the accusation.  
  
“She didn’t do anything.” He stresses through gritted teeth.  
  
“Ahh so you’re the villain in the tale? Well I’ve always loved a bad boy.” Maya says, fluttering her eyes lids seductively, lips wrapping around the edge of her glass suggestively. Neal grimaces, he knows where this is heading.  
  
“Look I think you’ve got the wrong guy…”   
  
“ _Oh please_ , you’ve been gawking at me all night.” Maya counters, smiling slyly.  
  
“I,” Neal sighs eyebrows knitting together, “it’s not what you think.”

Maya quips an eyebrow at him, unconvinced.

“You just, you remind me of, you look a little like...” Neal bites his lip, voice trailing off.  
  
“I’m ok with that.” Maya whispers after a moments pause. Her hand slips on to his thigh and Neal’s head snaps up. _What?_  
  
“Ok with what?” Neal asks, pretty sure he’s not going to like the answer. Maya licks her bottom lip, her face is getting dangerously close now, lips barely a few centimetres away. Yeah he’s _definitely_ not going to like this.  
  
“That you only want me because I look like...”  
  
“Emma.” It comes out automatically.  
  
“Hmm.” Maya hums, hand caressing his leg. “So let’s just cut all the bullshit and get to the good stuff ok?”  
  
Neal makes to protest but she’s on him before he can. His mouth goes slack under hers and Maya uses it as an opportunity to force her tongue in his mouth, dirty and desperate. The hand on his thigh rides even higher, hovering close to his crotch. Neal won’t lie, he’d thought about this, entertained the idea when she’d been far enough away that he could pretend she _was_ Emma. Now that he’s seen how clearly and obtusely _nothing_ like Emma she is, it makes the thought of touching her unbearable.  
  
“No.” he mumbles against her lips, struggling to focus with all the alcohol and emptiness burning in his veins.  
  
“Oh come on, I’ll even let you call me Emma if you want.” _That_ snaps his brain back into gear because _fucking hell_! Grabbing the wrists that have worked their way around his neck, he pushes her off him.  
  
“No.” he repeats forcefully, stumbling up from the bar stool. Maya looks up at him stunned for a moment before her face abruptly crumbles.  
  
“I’m sorry. I'm drunk and fucked up and I just thought...” she trails off, biting her bottom lip and looking mightily ashamed of herself. Neal can see the tears threatening to fall, feel the rejection radiating off her and suddenly he can see _her_ ; Maya and not the Emma look-alike. The woman, whose fiancée and best friend, have completely screwed over. A woman lost, broken and alone. Just like him. The realization makes a part of him want to sit back down, let her kiss him and take him to bed. He doesn’t.  
  
Neal mumbles a “don’t worry about it” before turning and stumbling his way out of the bar. The familiar yellow bug is waiting for him in the car park, pretty and gleaming. Neal can barely stand the sight of it anymore, eyes burning with memories every time he looks at it. There’s too much of her in the vehicle, too much of _them_.  
  
He’s too drunk to drive so instead he lies down in the back seat, ignoring the way her scent still lingers. It’s so cold without her pressed into his side; her cascade of golden hair splayed across his chest like a blanket. Neal thinks of Maya, still sitting alone at the bar. He thinks of her blonde hair and blue eyes, the warmth of her body. He could still go back. It wouldn’t mean _anything_. Expect it _would._  
  
\--  
  
 _“Tell me a secret.” She whispers, her naked body curved into his.  
  
“I was made for you.” He replies, tracing patterns into the small of her back.  
  
“Only me?”  
  
“Only you.”_


End file.
